


On Mustafar

by dining_alone



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Choking, Dark!Rey, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Rey is a Kenobi, Swamp Sex Challenge 2016, Teacher-Student Relationship, Woman on Top, lightsaber combat as foreplay, possible dead ancestor voyeurism, sub!Kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dining_alone/pseuds/dining_alone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey and Kylo make a quick detour to everyone's favorite lava planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Mustafar

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [dining_alone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dining_alone/pseuds/dining_alone) in the [swampsexchallenge2k16](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/swampsexchallenge2k16) collection. 



With her back to him, Rey surveyed the scene outside the compound.

“Why would anyone build their headquarters here?”

Kylo shrugged and settled into the chair at the head of the long conference table. “Mining? Plus it’s very intimidating, what with the dark, craggy peaks and rivers of lava and all that.”

“The old Empire used it as a prison camp,” said Rey. There was no inflection to her voice. “For the last few Jedi.”

He nodded. “You’re learning your history. Good.”

Rey turned to face him, tossing back the hood of her cloak. She gave him a knowing half-smile. “But that’s not why you brought me here, is it?”

Truthfully, Kylo hadn’t planned for either of them to end up on Mustafar at all. They were heading back to the Unknown Regions, speeding along the Hydian Way, when he saw the planet appear on the ship’s navigational viewscreen. Acting on impulse, he ordered his pupil to change course. Rey had feigned irritation, but Kylo knew she could sense his excitement, and that ignited her curiosity in turn. They touched down on the small, volcanic planet hours later.

“Why do you think I brought you here?” he asked, folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow at her.

Rey’s grin widened. “Because this is where my grandfather utterly destroyed your grandfather?”

“’Destroyed’ isn’t the term I’d use.”

“I’m sorry, do you have a better word for mutilating someone with a lightsaber?”

Kylo leaned back in the in chair and put his feet up on the table, boots scuffing against metal. “Kenobi _tried_ to destroy my grandfather, but he only succeeded in making him more powerful. He gained strength from the suffering. It’s how he became Vader.”

“I heard he became Vader long before their duel. You just don’t want to admit that my ancestor defeated yours,” Rey taunted.

Kylo rolled his eyes. “Yes, and afterwards Kenobi ran away to Tatooine with his tail between his legs, hid in a cave for twenty years, and died at Vader’s hand the next time they met. I wouldn’t exactly call that a defeat.”

“Fair enough.” Rey stalked toward him, crossing the room and planting her palms on the conference table. Her eyes caught the blue glow of the surrounding holoscreens when she met his gaze. She lowered her voice. “What do you imagine he’d think of me, if he could see me now?”

Something hot and wicked curled in Kylo’s gut at her tone. His mouth felt dry when he responded. “I imagine he’d be very disappointed.”

“Hmm. Are you sure he wouldn’t be more disappointed in you? His namesake?”

He failed to suppress a flash of anger at the reference to his old name. Rey smirked. She always enjoyed getting a rise out of him.

“I don’t really care what your grandfather would think of me. He was weak. A puppet of the corrupt Jedi Council and a failing government.”

Rey made a noncommittal sound; she had no patience for politics. She changed the subject. “Do you think they’re watching us right now? Our ancestors?”

Kylo sensed her growing excitement at the idea. He watched Rey’s hand twitch towards her waist, where her lightsaber was holstered.

He got to his feet, kicking the chair aside. “All things are possible through the Force,” he replied sardonically. The phrase had been one of Skywalker’s favorite useless platitudes.

Rey threw off the cloak and unclipped her saber. She activated the blade, slipping easily into a fighting stance—one of the first things Kylo had taught her. Her form was impeccable, as always.

“Want to give them a show?”

Kylo unhooked and ignited his own saber by way of response. In moments like these, he couldn’t help but compare the two weapons; Rey’s was a clean, unwavering line of red light, while his sputtered and crackled, throwing off droplets of energy.

 _Rough and unpolished. Just like you,_ Rey’s voice echoed in his mind.

“That’s no way to speak to your Master,” Kylo said aloud.

Her reply was to charge towards him without warning, saber raised overhead. Kylo barely had time to parry and spin away. Hells, she was quick.

Rey gave chase, slashing at him relentlessly, keeping him on the defensive. Kylo had the advantage of size, strength, and experience, but his pupil was faster, more agile. The Force flowed around her in deep whorls and currents, making every move look effortless. Worst of all, Rey _knew_ what sparring with her did to him, and she used that knowledge to her full advantage. Kylo was already getting hard beneath his robes.

The reaction was a nuisance, really. Kylo had long since lost count of how many one-on-one training sessions ended with Rey straddling him while he lay flat on his back, prone and begging her to touch him. Sometimes she obliged and sometimes she didn’t. Once she had kicked him in the ribs and spat in his face before sauntering away. He had taken himself in hand right then and there, sprawled on the floor, bringing himself to completion while her saliva dribbled down his chin.

Rey broke away from him, breathing hard. Several strands of dark hair had escaped from her braid during the scuffle. An impish smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Something distracting you, _Master_?”

She never used the honorific for anything other than mockery. Kylo snarled and ran at her, but she blocked the assault and danced out of striking rage. They continued like that for a while, trading blows. Rey seemed determined to demonstrate her prowess at every aspect of lightsaber combat, sliding from one form to the next even when it was impractical to do so. Kylo would have scolded her if he weren’t struggling to keep up himself.

Pride surged within him when he thought about how far his student had come. He had taken a sad little scavenger from some junkyard planet and turned her into a consummate warrior. Scarcely a year into her formal training, Rey had already distinguished herself as the most talented of his Knights by a wide margin, and Kylo felt sure that one day her skill would outstrip his own. He knew he should find the idea upsetting, but instead it delighted him. However powerful Rey became, Kylo would always be the one who shaped her, the one who had broken her down and rebuilt her into everything she was today.

The Force sizzled around them, and suddenly Kylo’s lightsaber flew from his hands, throwing up a shower of sparks when it crashed into the nearby wall. Rey, stared him down, triumphant.

Against any other opponent, Kylo would never allow a move like that; he was careful to maintain his defenses at all times. But, as was often the case when he sparred with Rey, he found it difficult to shield himself in the Force with an erection straining against his trousers.

Rey advanced towards him, taking her time, swinging the saber back and forth in front of her in lazy arcs. Kylo raised his hands in surrender and retreated until he bumped into the edge of the conference table. Rey stopped just short of him.

“I wonder if I should end this duel the same way my grandfather did,” she mused. She traced the tip of her saber’s blade up his calf, burning through the fabric and singeing his skin. “You don’t need your legs, do you?”

Kylo bit his lip and looked away, heart hammering. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard in his life.

Rey continued, “ _I_ certainly don’t need your legs. Not when I’ve got your fingers. And your tongue. And _this._ ” Her free hand clamped down viciously over his erection, and Kylo let out a helpless moan. Rey laughed.

“They’re watching us right now, you know. I can feel it.” She leaned closer, voice dropping to a stage whisper. “Do you think Vader’s ashamed of you? Do you think he’s embarrassed to see what a little _whore_ you’ve become?”

“When you said you wanted to give them a show, I didn’t realize you meant _this_ kind of show,” Kylo managed to retort.

Rey drew back, frowning a little. “That’s enough from you, I think.”

She raised a hand, and Kylo slammed down against the table. Flat on his back, ears ringing from the impact, he felt an invisible grip tighten around his throat, gradually cutting off his air supply.

 _I taught her this trick_ , he thought dizzily. The knowledge came with a small flicker of pride.

Rey rolled her eyes. She was in his head again. She was always in his head. “Yes, yes. You’re an excellent teacher.”

She extinguished the blade on her lightsaber and tossed it aside before climbing up on the table to straddle him. Rey moved with matter-of-fact efficiency, but Kylo could tell she was just as desperate as he was. He felt it radiating off her. She needed this too.

Rey unzipped his trousers and unceremoniously shoved her hand inside, giving him a few quick strokes. The pressure on his throat did not let up, and every nerve ending in Kylo’s body sang with bliss at the contact. With another pang of arousal, he noted that Rey had not removed her gloves.

She withdrew her hand, affecting a look of disgust at the strings of pre-ejaculate clinging to the black leather. “You’re going to lick these clean later,” she said.

With that, Rey pushed his trousers down around his ankles, shoved aside her own skirts, and sank down on his cock.

She wasn’t wearing any undergarments. With a jolt, Kylo realized that she must have planned this. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Rey was always several steps ahead of him.

Once she adjusted to his length, Rey began to move, slowly rocking up and down before arriving at a punishing, steady rhythm. Even without the vise around his neck, the sensation would have knocked Kylo breathless. She was so tight, so _wet_ for him. She must have been dripping with it while they were sparring. Kylo made a choked sound, the only noise he could muster with his airways constricted.

“Hush,” Rey ordered.

The pressure on his throat increased until spots of gold danced before his eyes and darkness threatened the edges of his vision. He became dimly aware that Rey had thrust her hand between their bodies, working away at her clit while she rode him. She fed him little bits of her pleasure to complement his own.

Kylo felt the tug of an impending orgasm. He was going to—

“No,” said Rey sharply.

He would have whined in frustration if he were capable of it. Instead he lay there, powerless against the onslaught of sensation as Rey brought herself to climax, shaking and spasming around his cock. The grip on his throat slackened and then melted away entirely. Rey slumped against him, panting. She pressed a light kiss to his ear.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

Kylo was still painfully hard. “Rey,” he began.

Rey responded to the plea by extricating herself from him. He whimpered at the abrupt loss of slick heat. His erection didn’t wane, and his whole body thrummed with arousal, even more urgent than before. He knew Rey sensed his desperation, but she ignored it, smoothing out her skirts and tucking an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. The flush lingered in her cheeks.

“Rey,” Kylo repeated, beseeching.

She turned away, stretching out both hands and calling their weapons back to her. With the sabers in tow, she strode towards the compound’s exit. She paused once she reached the doorway, whirling around to face Kylo and fixing him with a predatory grin.

“Let’s go, _Master_ ,” she said. “If you do a good job eating me out on the way back to base, I might let you finish.”

Kylo swallowed, ignoring the pain it caused his abused throat, and licked his lips. It wouldn’t be the first time he knelt between Rey’s thighs while she piloted a ship.

Pulling his trousers back on, he took one last look around the room, scanning for a Force signature that would indicate the presence of either of their ancestors. He found nothing.

One thing was certain: if Vader had been there to witness his grandson’s defeat, at least it came at the hands of Kylo's best student.

 

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY EARLY VALENTINE'S DAY, PERVERTS.


End file.
